Pockets Full of Stones
by rensrenegade
Summary: Why didn't you like call the cops or something?" "Cops can't be involved, even I know that's how Kenny works. You guys honestly think I would let someone drown." He didn't ask, he stated his question. Kyle looked at him and he shook his head, "it's not like I don't actualy care about anything at all." Creek. Bunny. Style.


_**Author's Note: This was something from my story I've been working on that didn't make the cut. Events have been changed so as to not give away the plot (I'm keeping it under wraps until it's finished) and I just... felt like this piece shouldn't be deleted. So I made it into it's own one-shot. I've always been interested in Craig's mindset and honestly was watching a winter storm out of my window when I wrote this and... yeah. The mood resonates with me right now. **_

_**Hope you enjoy and hopefully I haven't written Craig to be OOC. I dunno. **_

* * *

For Craig it had been a normal day. A normal, boring day. Just the way he liked it.

He had woken up at 6:45 and went on his morning jog. No one else was up, although he was used to passing Stan and looking away quickly because he tried to avoid those guys as much as possible. He'd eat breakfast, usually toast but sometimes an omelet if he felt up to it, shower, and get ready for the day. Any last minute homework he'd finish before his five minute drive to school, where he'd avoid the stupid groups; the gossiping bitches, the jocky assholes, and make his way to the people he hated less than everybody else.

Truth be told, they were his best friends, but he'd never be open to admitting that to them. Because he didn't care about anything, so why would he care about people, or seem to? That's just the way he rolled. Except, down deep from the layers of open apathy and lack of motivation he really did care about a lot of things. A lot of people. Like Tweek, Token, and Clyde. And as much as he hated to admit, even though he hated them, Stan's group and his group had gotten closer over the years and the only feud anybody had anymore was him and Kenny. But he didn't like to think about that.

Craig made his silent way through the crowded halls without being noticed by anyone. He approached his locker, stared at it angrily, then opened the door and grabbed his calculus II book. He liked calculus and he didn't want to seem like a self-righteous asshole like Kyle and take advanced trigonometry.

"Hey, dude!" Craig turned around and gave a nod to Clyde who looked excited about something, "we still on for tonight?"

"Sure," he mumbled in monotone and stuffed his backpack into the small locker.

Craig gave a small sigh as Clyde walked away, all of his confidence following, leaving Craig to feel a little more empty than usual. He grumbled quietly, slammed the door shut, and followed the path his almost egotistical best friend made.

"H-hey!" Craig turned around when hearing that ever-familiar voice. Even a ghost of a smile trailed on his lips as he faced the blonde with unruly spikes he called hair, ceaseless bloodshot eyes lined with purple bags from lack of sleep, and a constant vibrating in his body.

"Hey." He said, walking two steps closer to his boyfriend. His demi-sexual boyfriend, which he didn't mind because he wasn't really one to want constant physical affection and attention. Though sometimes they kissed, and touched, but they had the strongest bond he ever felt with someone. Because what they felt, their intimacy was on a mental and, goddammit, emotional level that he swore no one else could compare.

Stan and Kyle walked around like they were everybody's power couple. Sure, they were super best friends and sure not everyone knew they were out yet, but their entire class did. They got a trip from walking so close and people wondering if they were just super close as friends or super close as lovers. He had been envious of them for the longest time, he always wanted someone like that in his life, but when he realized that was Tweek he figured he was so much better off than them. Because Tweek didn't have a snobbish, conceited bone in his body.

Then there was Butters and Kenny, the only other gay couple this faggy community had, other than him and Tweek, or that's what he thought at least. He didn't understand them at all and most of the time he didn't even think about it because he didn't want to understand it. They were polar opposites yet some blonde string of fate brought them to be best friends after Butters flipped shit on everyone in the fourth grade. Kenny was a pushover, he had used that one too many times and he wasn't sure who else really knew about his eagerness to please, and Butters was the wounded puppy everyone took their shit out on. It made sense that Kenny would bow to his every whim, make him feel better, because for Kenny making others feel better was what made him feel better. He got that. It was some connection to the glaring masochism radiating from him.

Kenny was probably the most submissive person he knew, everyone believed it to be Butters and everyone thought that stupid tall stoner was the epitome of dominance, but Craig knew better. Craig understood him loud and clear. They understood each other. It's why Kenny was all talk and tease but never any action. Because he knew what would happen if he pushed Craig too far and he had faced that life way too much to push his buttons. It made Craig a little sad to think about, really, but it was also a huge part of why they were the way they were. Because it was fun.

"-just don't know what to do! Ngh! I just want to try but then there's those stupid-"

"Hey, hey..." Craig trailed off as he put an arm on Tweek's shoulder. The blonde whimpered and looked up at him with twitching wide eyes. Craig actually smiled, "calm down." That was where he would say 'hon' or 'babe' but he wasn't one for stupid endearments. Not like Stan and Kyle.

He watched as Tweek took a slow and deep inhale, the way Craig had taught him because he used it himself to control his own emotions, and slowly breathed out of his nose. Tweek repeated this a couple of times and finally opened his eyes. The twitching and shaking was gone, and for a moment they could share this time where Tweek wasn't scared of anything.

These were the moments Craig loved. Take away the jittery effects of caffeine and Tweek was probably the strongest person he knew. But he couldn't handle the caffeine withdrawal, they had tried that, and seeing him in that much pain made Craig unhappy. So they worked out a plan to let him drink his whatever-shot espresso to get his fix but stay calm around Craig, even though he really didn't mind one way or another. He just thought all that caffeine was unhealthy; he was like a crack addict with it.

"Now, what are you worried about?"

"Scholarships," Tweek mumbled without gritting his teeth. His voice was clear and rich and slow. Calming. "I can't find any for culinary arts... and I don't know if I should even go into that anymore."

"But... your food is really good. And your baking too." Craig mumbled, Tweek smiled a little as they walked toward homeroom.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Well, thanks, I mean I just-"

"You're not skipping again!" Craig looked up to find Kyle yelling at an orange parka, or more like at the person in the orange parka. It had been years since anyone had actually seen someone wear it, anyway, so the sight was quite odd. "No, Kenny, you gotta stop..."

Craig expected him to shove Kyle away, say something witty, and walk away... but that was the old Kenny. Now he simply allowed himself to be dragged closer to homeroom. Pushover, always a pushover.

Except he could tell something was wrong. He had gone mute a year ago, and became totally unresponsive when Butters was shipped off to some private school in California the day before senior year began. Craig was pretty sure something went down for that to happen, but this was different. Kenny was practically catatonic. He hadn't been that way in years. Not since he dealt with... Craig shook his head and blocked out those thoughts.

Tweek shrugged his shoulders and Craig just stared ahead as they walked into the classroom. They all sat in their desks and talked quietly as their passive aggressive teacher looked through lecture notes for the class period. Tweek sat next to him and twitched a little bit yet seemed to relax as Craig sent him that knowing look.

"Kenny McCormick please report to the office, Kenny McCormick." Seventeen pairs of eyes turned to the blonde who sat in the back corner. His glassy blue eyes just stared at the board and Kyle sighed heavily as he turned around to the blonde.

"Kenny, go." He ordered, he remained still.

"Kenny, you need to go to the office." Their teacher finally said after a few moments passed. Kenny remained seated and didn't even blink.

"How fucking stoned is he?" Cartman asked Stan who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Fucknut, the hearing's today. Stuart's already locked up and Kevin ran. They're only busting Kenny 'cause he and Karen were there."

"Shit, fuck that."

Craig rolled his eyes and stared down at yesterday's notes. They didn't make much sense because Ms. Bleaubaum went on a tangent about how she hated Jane Austen, even though it was their econ class, so he had given up halfway through and played Temple Run.

He didn't care about what they had to say. They all liked to talk and spread shit that didn't matter to anyone else except the people it involved. Obviously something was always happening to the McCormick's and this seemed to interest Craig slightly more than usual but obviously if it was fucking Kenny up that badly then he really didn't want to know. He maintained a normal life, he thought about his actions, and he didn't do anything stupid. Usually.

But he knew Karen because she was a frequent guest at their house. He had seen her grow up into a nice young girl who was different from her older brothers but there was that McCormick spit fire when she got excited or upset. He didn't pay much attention to her when she was over but as she was around so much he had observed a lot about her, as well as his sister, and he was glad they were normal too. It was difficult being normal when they were all close to someone who was involved with some of the worst people in South Park.

And he also knew how Kenny cared about Karen. Because, although he didn't show it, Craig was pretty sure he'd give his life for his sister too. Kenny was overprotective of that girl, though, and he had spent his life making sure she didn't turn out like him or Kevin. And he did a pretty damn good job at that, Craig had to admit. Ruby, on the otherhand, turned out like a mirror image of himself. Except when with Karen and Ike; he was kind of glad for that. Kind of.

"If you don't go right now then you're getting three week's detention!" Craig couldn't help but snort as Kenny's punishment for not even responding had been raised to two more weeks of detention; he had hardly been paying attention. Still, he seemed to not even breathe as he stared unblinking and emotionless at the whiteboard. "If I have to-"

Ms. Bleaubaum was interrupted by the door opening and a police officer entered with his badge out. Craig swore he saw Kenny stiffen, yet as he looked between the cop and him he seemed as stoic as he had before.

"Is Kenneth McCormick present?" The teacher sighed heavily and pointed to Kenny in the corner. He scrambled with his book, the first time he moved on his own accord, when the officer pulled out handcuffs.

"Mr. McCormick, I need you to come downtown with me, we have a few questions to ask you."

"He's not gonna talk," Cartman said, earning a glare from the teacher, "no, he's like gone mute or somethin'. He literally won't talk."

Craig saw the fear in his eyes and he figured those blue pools communicated way more of what the police, and anyone else needed to know, than a few words. He was practically pulled up out of his seat, like a ragdoll, by the cop and handcuffed with his hands in front of him. His eyes cast down and Craig watched as a tear dropped onto the floor as he was lead by the man who pulled roughly at the hood of his parka.

The door closed and everyone began murmuring to each other. Craig watched as Tweek turned to Token, who was explaining what happened to a few students. Craig rolled his eyes and looked at the clock; he sighed heavily. He had seven hours of this shit left. As he glanced around the room he realized Stan and Kyle probably felt the same way.

By the time lunch rolled around Craig had heard Kenny's name from nearly every person he attempted to interact with. Rumors had spread like wildfire and the current one was he was arrested for domestic abuse and dealing meth. That sounded way more like his father than Kenny, in his opinion, but he said nothing as he twirled his homemade alfredo absentmindedly. He didn't really have the stomach to eat; food just sounded too heavy.

"I think Kenny's coming back today," Clyde said as he sat down. Craig groaned in annoyance and passed his container down the table. It traveled to every person on their end, down to the other section, where Stan graciously took it and nodded to Craig. The raven-haired boy couldn't help but crack a smirk; the star football player that everyone ogled was going to be fat, he so knew it. He was betting he'd be fatter than Cartman, or at least a part of him hoped so.

"I heard he was going up to the hearing," Token replied, "I mean, c'mon, if his mom's busted then he and Karen are gone. And if he's found guilty then Karen's on her own."

"It'd only be like five years with good behavior," Clyde replied, "like he could behave himself..."

"He'd probably be the one to make sure someone dropped the soap," Kevin quipped. Craig scowled darkly and accidentally spilled his water on the burger he had worked so hard to make. "hey!"

"What?" Craig asked lowly, glaring darkly at the black-haired boy who shrugged and went back to eating his fries. He glanced down the table and caught Kyle looking at them through his peripherals, as if that wasn't obvious. He made eye contact and smiled softly at Craig, before he turned back to their conversation with Wendy and Bebe.

Kenny hadn't returned the rest of the day. He heard Kyle talking to Stan about it at the end of the day. Apparently Karen was their means of communication for what had been going on. Kenny was taking his lack of talking seriously, he wasn't even texting, and that was a bit extreme.

"-gonna reach verdict tomorrow. Karen said she tried talking to him... Stan, he's like cutting himself, or burning himself or something."

"The fuck?"

"Yeah. Kevin showed up at their house and he like checked him over to see if he was tweaking. Turns out he's got scars all over his arms... and it's like, how could I not know? I just... I could be helping, I could-"

"Ky, it's not your fault. Kenny's... in a dark place. I mean, he has been, except I mean think about it. What if you lost me and then like two months later you lost Ike? And you're found guilty for shit your parents did. He's like... alone."

"But he's not, he has us!"

"I know, I know... but... I get it. It's not the same. Yeah we're like brothers but it's like... how do you feel when I'm sick and stuck at home and you have to go to school?"

"I usually stay home." Stan laughed.  
"But when you can't, like that time your mom found out why you were trying to play hooky."

"It's the worst... what does that have to... oh."

"Yeah. Imagine that, but times a thousand 'cause of depression, the fear of being arrested on false charges, and the fact that shit's been going on in that family for years that no one fucking knows about."

"Let's just... let's go to your house." Stan nodded and put his arm around Kyle's back as he led him out of the school.

Craig rolled his eyes and felt himself wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of their conversation. If Kenny seriously had cuts on his arms it wasn't from being a self-pitying, wallow in your depression, cry for attention. No. He knew for a fact Kenny probably slit those wrists in the privacy of his home so he could die slowly and painfully. He wasn't the type to self-harm but not take it the next step.

Craig tugged at his sleeve and slung his bag over his back as he waited for Clyde. After he cleaned out his locker to his liking, the brunette showed up with his phone in hand and a somber expression.

"Hey, dude." Clyde said solemnly as he looked at Craig. He shut the door to his locker and turned to face him. "I won't be able to hang tonight."

"Okay," Craig mumbled as he threw his backpack on; he didn't care enough. He'd just go home after his shift at the coffee shop and probably sleep.

"I would but Red wants to-"

"I said it's okay," Craig said a little sharper. Clyde sighed and nodded slowly, "don't worry. We can hang another time, I don't care." Craig tried to smile but his lips just shook as they pulled upward. Clyde laughed a little at that and patted his shoulder.

"Okay, I'll text you later and maybe we can hang tomorrow."

"Alright," Craig murmured as he walked down the hallway and out of the school. He shivered as he walked outside to the heavy blanket of snow and freezing mountain air. He tightened his hat and pulled his coat up to cover his face as he walked to his old Buick. The engine stalled a couple of times and he groaned in annoyance as he pumped the gas pedal while turning the ignition. Finally the old piece of crap rumbled to start and he shook his head as he turned the heat on high. Damn his anemia always making him colder than normal.

Craig turned on the radio and drove to Tweak Bros. Coffee and parked in the back. He grabbed his apron from the back and headed into the back of the store.

He punched in his code and walked up to the front where he waited on the teens and young adults who felt they needed middle of the day coffee. Tweek was one of them, but he couldn't exactly complain about that. The coffee was good but he didn't understand how people could have an addiction over caffeine; then again he had been forced to stop drinking soda because he liked the bubbles so much.

Craig liked the atmosphere of the coffee shop. Once the people were gone it was a really nice place; the smell of coffee was oddly calming to him, mostly because it was how Tweek smelled, and he liked the smell of the pastries and various other bakery goods that Tweek perfected. It was always warm in the shop, in temperature and comfort. Not that Craig needed that, but it was kind of nice.

He figured he could spend all of his days here if he really wanted to. Not that his life was rough; it was just... he actually liked the Tweaks. Even though he didn't really say anything about it he liked the way they treated him as family. He never really understood what family was supposed to be like until he stayed over at their house. It gave him a different perspective on his own family but not enough to want to change anything. They were what they were; set in their ways. It was normalcy for them, and that's the way Craig liked it.

The doors jingled open and he breathed an aggravated sigh as Stan and Kyle entered, looking cold to the core, and deeply engrossed in their conversation. Craig sighed heavily and started the percolator for Stan's flat white that he had been forced to learn one grueling day.

"Hey Craig," Kyle said as they dropped their conversation and approached the counter. He just stared at them and tapped his nails along the cash register. "Uh can I just get a small black coffee?" Craig turned to Stan and Kyle smiled a little as if he knew what he was thinking.

"I'll just have it black too," Craig looked at him incredulously yet poured the two cups .

"$3.28 is your total," he mumbled, handing them the the styrofoam cups. Kyle handed him a five dollar bill and told him to keep the change. "Thanks," he turned around and started to clean the counter, like he usually did, to keep himself busy.

"Hey, Craig," Kyle said quietly, he glanced up; he was kind of surprised they were still there. "Thanks."

"For... what?" he asked uncertainly as he rinsed one of the coffee pots.

"For... being normal." Kyle replied. The words were weird coming from his mouth and Craig knew what he meant; thanks for keeping cool, not asking about Kenny, treating them like normal. They didn't actually like the fact he tried to keep his life as drama free as possible; which was becoming increasingly difficult to do. He shrugged and started making a fresh batch of coffee and watched as they sat at one of the tables; silent, staring.

Kyle's phone rang and Craig watched in slight surprise as he bolted up from his chair and ushered for Stan to follow. Craig took their not quite empty coffee cups and tossed them in the trash can. He sighed heavily and stared out the large window. By the looks of it the snow wasn't going to stop and no one else was going to come in.

And he was right. Mr. Tweak let him off early to get home before the storm picked up. By the time he reached his car he was shivering violently and couldn't control his chattering teeth. He struggled to start his car once more but finally the old piece of crap roared to life and he drove through the quiet, snow-covered streets to his house.

He sighed when seeing his family was all home; he parked his car on the side street and walked with his hands pocketed and head low. He fumbled with his keys as he unlocked the door and quickly stomped the snow from his boots when he finally entered his warm house. The carpet squished under his now bare toes and he felt the snow drip from his hat onto his neck. He wiped at it, then pulled off his chullo and hung it on the wall. After scrubbing his hands through his hair he walked passed his parents in the living room, flipped them off, and headed straight for the refrigerator in the kitchen. He stared at the contents and slid down onto the floor as he stared indecisively at the various leftovers, deli meat, fruit, and bread. He hated it when bread was in the fridge.

He heard a sniffle from the kitchen table and looked up slowly. Ruby sat with her phone in her hands as she stared at the screen. He knew not to ask, considering he knew exactly who her best friend was and what was currently happening, and bent his foot too close the fridge in disappointment. He was hungry but nothing interested him.

Craig stood up from the linoleum and opened the freezer. He pulled out a Hot Pocket and popped it in the microwave. As he waited for the timer to beep he took a seat at the kitchen table and stared at the floor.

"I hate people," Ruby mumbled as she stared at her phone. Craig gave a small chuckle as he kept his eyes on the floor.

"It's not people I hate but the shit they do," Craig replied quietly, truthfully. Ruby looked up at him with tears in his eyes and he felt himself stiffen with heavy tension. He had no clue what to do, so he stood up and waited by the microwave.

"You know my friend Karen?" Craig finally exhaled a heavy sigh as he hesitantly nodded, "her dad called the cops on her brother Kenny 'cause he's pissed he's dating a boy. And... he said he was making and dealing meth and was a prostitute. Well they all got busted for it except Karen and they took her to Littleton with her grandparents and she's scared that she might have to stay there for good. She testifies tomorrow and... I mean I've been over at their house, I've seen Karen and Kenny and I can't believe... I mean I know he doesn't do that, but I fucking hate their dad. Craig, I don't want to lose my best friend."

He looked up and tried to smile at her but his lips just twitched and failed miserably. The timer went off and he pulled out the Hot Pocket and headed to the door. He hesitated, however, and turned around.

"I don't know a lot about there family but I know Kenny. And I know enough about him to promise you your best friend will be back by the end of the week." Craig turned around and walked out of the room before he could even see her reaction.

They never really spoke. What he felt for his family was... awkward. They were just for show; they seemed happy in public and at family events. They pulled off this huge charade that everything was fine and dandy and they passed his apathy off as a moody teenager. Except he had been a moody child, too, so it wasn't just a phase. He wasn't really sure if his parents remembered his middle name, not that it really mattered anyway; he was going to be going to college in Chicago in a few months.

Craig closed and locked his door and sat at his desk. He took a couple of bites of his Hot Pocket then decided he wasn't really hungry and set it away for later, maybe. He opened the cage to his guinea pig's cage, this was Stripe's only son, and sat on the desk chair. The little rodent barked quietly and crawled up his arm, to his shoulder. He smiled and stroked his back a little as he dialed Tweek's number.

Talking to Tweek kept him sane. A lot of people thought he hated everybody, that he was socially awkward and was a dick. Sure, he was cynical and a lot of what his classmates did made him hate them all but it wasn't like he didn't care about anyone. The truth of the matter was he was a major introvert. He was a loner and it wasn't exactly that he didn't want to talk to people, but he couldn't. The idea of starting a conversation terrified him. It had taken a lot of work for his friends to be as close with him as they were, and even harder for him to actually open up and trust them. But talking to Tweek was different; he got him. They didn't do that small talk bullshit he hated; he had the most serious conversations ever with him. Sometimes the two of them would sit for hours talking about the deeper meaning to life and what was in store for them, as individuals as well as the entire human race.

"I don't think I could handle a machine gun for the zombie apocalypse." Tweek said as soon as he answered the phone. Craig smiled.

"You'd have a pea shooter. Or a potato gun." Craig replied then let out a breath of laughter, laughing was weird for him, "or maybe a handgun."

"You'd have a crossbow."

"A crossbow?"

"Yeah."

It was those little things, the little conversations that Craig loved. Where they would just talk about the first thing that came to their minds. That's what he loved about Tweek, and their friendship, and their relationship. They had said "I love you" twice; it didn't need to be said a lot because to Craig it ruined the impact. What they had was purely an emotional connection, an emotional intimacy, and that's what Craig liked so much about it. Because Tweek wanted to know him, the inner workings of his mind, those deep dark things he kept quiet in the back corner that only scratched at his brain and begged for attention when he couldn't fall asleep, and there was no question on if he was good enough. He didn't mind waiting; he honestly thought what they did was better than sex, anyway.

"So... we're still on for tomorrow, right? Like- agh!- is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. I'm not missing a chance to watch "Red Racer"," Craig heard Tweek laugh and he smiled softly.

"W-well, I never watched it and I like knowing the kinda stuff you were into when we were younger."

"You were into it too though."

"I didn't w-watch "Red Racer", I watched "Terrance and Phillip"."

"How blasphemous." Craig teased, although Tweek probably couldn't tell because he usually spoke in monotone. "I'll have popcorn and coffee."

"A-awesome! So it's a date?" Craig sighed heavily; he hated that term. But Tweek liked to use the words normal couples used.

"Yeah... a date."

"O-okay, hey can you help me with calculus tomorrow? I'm stuck on a couple problems..."

After about an hour and a half he got off the phone with Tweek who wanted to get ready for bed because he was tired for the first time in a decade and he actually wanted to try and sleep. Craig played with Stripe Jr. on his bed and on the floor; he hated using the little balls for them to roam around in; he had trained both Stripe and his son to come to the sound of his whistle and he was house-trained. He also liked to go on walks like a dog, but not very far. He'd usually just carry him around after awhile and walk aimlessly. Other than Tweek, Clyde, and Token, Stripe Jr. was probably his best friend.

But Stripe II let out an aggravated bark after awhile and so he put him back in his cage so he could eat and sleep. Craig worked on homework for awhile, read some of his book project book, worked on his senior project, looked at scholarship applications he'd put off until March, and decided the room was too stuffy. Even though it was cold he just had to walk; he felt like Tweek, all pent up with energy that just needed to get out and away from everything. He went through this sometimes; some days he'd be extremely lethargic and others he'd feel restless all day and night. Today was like that.

Without saying a word to his parents or sister, he grabbed his coat and hat and closed the door behind him. He honestly liked watching the snow fall. It covered the town, made it silent, made it appear normal to the passing eye. Just another mountain town in Colorado.

He walked into the cold, felt it bite at his cheeks and the snow blinded his eyes but he didn't really mind. The cold made him feel alive, aware, alert. It made him feel chill, which he really needed right now because he felt like he had drank all the coffee at work. And not in the good way, either.

Craig found his way to Stark's Pond; he liked to walk there at night sometimes. This place was mostly abandoned due to the fact kids these days would rather play indoors than outside, but he and his classmates would sometimes meet up for a snow battle during the winter. They once had a "beach party" there too, where everyone pretty much ended up skinny dipping and it could have been one huge orgy if they all had just one more beer. But he liked to sit by the lake, frozen or running, and stare at the sky in the middle of the night. It was mind-altering; for once he could finally just sit and think and not feel the suffocation of his home or the hounding eyes of the students at school. He could actually breathe. The way of societal pressure was off his shoulders for a few moments.

Except as he made his way to the old bench that he was honestly surprised could still hold his weight, he saw something on the ice. As he furrowed his brows and squinted slightly he realized they were clothes. That was odd.

No, that wasn't odd, that was scary. Because that meant someone was running around on the ice naked. Or...

A shiver ran down his spine as he realized he didn't see anyone on the ice at all. They were under it.

"Just one moment... one fucking moment I'd like to be normal..." he trailed off to himself as he walked toward the ice and set his foot down on it, testing the strength. He took a deep breath and put his second foot on it, gave a jump, and sighed with relief when he didn't fall through.

Craig ditched his coat and hat by the bench and carefully slid on the ice with his sneakers failing at helping him not slip. He nearly fell twice and by the time he reached the clothes he felt he was probably too late.

The fact that they left their clothes out in the first place screamed suicide to him. If it had been an accident the person wouldn't have ditched their underwear. Yet as he looked at the clothes closer, he blanched. No one could forget that orange hoodie, now covered with snow.

Kenny was probably dead right now and it didn't matter because he'd show up the next day, not that anyone ever noticed. He only knew of his deaths because he saw through the shit that happened in this town... and he used Kenny's immortality as stress relief more than a few times. Judging by the amount of ice and snow covering his clothes he had been here for awhile. But Craig found him taking off his shoes anyway as he combed through the water and shouted his name.

A part of him hoped for the boy to smack on the ice but another part told him it would scare the shit out of him.

"Damn you, McCormick," Craig growled as he ditched his shirt and pants and stared at the black water. He knew it would be cold... he knew it was pointless because Kenny could be anywhere under there by now. He'd be dead, and why would Craig risk his own life knowing he'd be back in less than twelve hours.

Because, contrary to common belief, he actually gave a damn.

Craig's body screamed in pain and he felt like bolting as soon as he submersed himself in the water. His skin tightened and his body seized from the cold; he could shut down instantly. In the darkness, he had no clue how he'd see Kenny, and he wasn't going to venture far from the hole in the ice; unlike Kenny he was mortal. If he spent more than a couple of minutes minutes under here he was going to die. In fact, he probably gave himself a minute before he would go back up.

He kicked his legs and pushed himself down as far as he could, and reached; for anything. For someone. Suddenly he couldn't see the opening, and his instinct was to panic. But if he panicked, he would die.

Craig had to give up. Fuck Kenny McCormick, he wasn't caring enough to die for him. He was being ridiculously selfish anyway.

Through the murky, muddy, freezing pond water, he pushed himself up, as fast as he could. He could see the ice and he reached, reached, reached...

He couldn't breathe. His lungs screamed for air and his head was growing dizzy. He didn't know where he was. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Craig covered his mouth with his hand as he fought to breathe and pinched his eyes shut. His hand grazed against the ice, slammed, pushed, bled. His hand reached for the ice, reached for something, anything.

His eyes opened when he felt stiff flesh. He turned, in shock, and tried to see through the darkness. The sludgy water burned his eyes. He gripped the bony, stiff skin and pulled closer, closer, closer. Blonde hair, lightened from ice, caught his vision and he wanted to laugh so hard right now.  
He was going to die finding Kenny McCormick. He was such a fucking asshole.

Craig feebly reached upward, searching for the opening, for air, for light, but there was nothing. He felt his heart slow, his blood turn to sludge as his clawing grew weaker and weaker. There was no more panic, he was calm. So calm. He was... was he okay with this?

Suddenly he could breathe. Suddenly he felt air and it caused his body to convulse in pain as he looked around and didn't quite understand how he broke the surface. He looked in his arms and saw Kenny, eyes closed, frozen, and more than slightly blue. Craig pulled himself out of the water, body shaking uncontrollably, and used all of his strength to pull Kenny out as well; he didn't weigh a lot, but considering he was dead he seemed to weigh more. Except, as Craig touched his chest, he could feel his chest heave with tiny breaths that were slow and staggered. He touched his wrist and felt the ghost of a pulse.

Shit, he was alive.

Ignoring the pain in his body and the ache in his lungs, Craig hurried to dress himself and relished the warmth of his clothes, relished his ability to breathe, and brushed the snow off Kenny's clothes. He hurried to pull on Kenny's jeans and hoodie, in attempts to build heat for him, but he was probably long gone. It didn't matter now.

His shaking hand grabbed his phone and he began to dial 911 yet stopped; out of selflessness he knew the damaging effects of calling the authorities for this. Kenny would be considered unstable, on suicide watch, and Karen would be gone forever. He wasn't going to let Ruby lose her best friend; he couldn't imagine life without Tweek, so he didn't want to know how his sister would coupe without Karen.

So he pocketed his phone and grunted as he lifted Kenny by the waist. He was stiff already, and the color of his skin was setting him off. It was scary, it was the freakiest thing he had ever seen, and considering he killed Kenny before that was... shocking. He didn't think anything could scare him.

"You are such an asshole," Craig grumbled as he adjusted his hands to carry this lanky, too-skinny boy that he shouldn't be able to lift so easily; he was just a half-inch taller than him, he shouldn't feel like a feather. A dead weight feather, but a feather nonetheless.

He fumbled as he put his coat around Kenny and covered his head with it. His hair was frozen and he doubted he'd warm up like that in this weather. Craig could feel his fingers and shoulders growing numb, from carrying him, from exposure to the bitter wind. The water was freezing to his skin and it hurt so fucking bad.

"I'm going to get hypothermia, pneumonia, a virus infection, and probably the flu because of you, you fucker," He growled angrily as he stumbled under the weight and tried to get his best footing. He didn't know where to go or who to turn to; he couldn't go home with Kenny, especially like this. Tweek would probably have an aneurysm, Clyde was out with Red, and Token lived too fucking far away for him to walk.

So he took off in the direction of the person who lived the closest to Stark's Pond. His shoulders wracked with violent shivers as snow and wind practically tore through him. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he trudged on.

"Selfish, you are so fucking selfish..." his voice came out in a whimper.

* * *

"I don't know how much longer I can cover for him," Kyle murmured to Stan as he stared at the television. The black-haired boy nodded solemnly as his eyes focused on the re-run of Terrance and Phillip

Karen had said he left Denver at about 3:30."He's not okay, he's snapped" is what she had said, and Kyle and Stan truly believed that. After everything that's happened to him, losing Karen would be what put him off the edge. Even the idea of losing her had that effect, apparently.

Kenny and Karen had been staying at the Broflovskis while they waited for the verdict. It was beneficial because Gerald was also Kenny and Karen's lawyer. By the time 7:30 had rolled around Sheila had started asking questions. Gerald assured her that Kenny was probably just trying to figure out stuff on his own accord. Yet he talked to Kyle in private and said he couldn't wait all night for him to show; if he wasn't back by midnight he'd call the authorities.

"We can go look for him again, maybe he's up at his house." Kyle gave him a look and Stan sighed heavily.

"I have to finish my conclusion for my physics lab, then I guess we can drive or something. I'm so fucking pissed at him."

"Kyle, he's fucked up, like I know there's a bunch a shit we don't know about. Butters is worried sick but it's not like he can help, he said Kenny just sends the same email, the same thing, but at least it's more than what he says to us. He's so lost, and... traumatized and scared. I mean, last year at this time we were finding him in a dumpster and-"

"And I don't want to have to do that again!" Kyle cried with tears in his eyes, "I can't stand the thought of that shit happening to him but he's doing it to himself! I know he's traumatized, I've seen him in the middle of the night. It's fucking scary but he's scaring me!" He breathed slowly, calmly, and stared at the television, "I can't imagine how Butters is feeling."

"Disconnected." Kyle nodded slowly.

"I wish he was here, I miss him so much."

"Well he's got a job and he's saving up to help with the apartment, so he'll be back. He'll be back in May. We've got six months left, six months without Butters."

"And he's actually happy there, he's making friends..."

"He's worried sick, but yeah, happy." Stan smiled softly and ran his hands through the auburn tendrils that cascaded in curls over his face. Kyle replied with the same sad gesture and nestled his head on his chest.

"I don't want to do physics..."

"Then do it tomorrow." Kyle hummed softly as he closed his eyes. Stan was warm, so warm, and he hadn't been sleeping right due to Kenny's apparent insomnia. If he closed his eyes for twenty minutes...

Someone knocked on the door once and Kyle jerked up. Stan glanced down curiously at Kyle, who stood up from his comfortable perch on Stan and hurried to the door.

"Assholes," Craig sobbed. Tears ran down his face as his body convulsed with violent shakes and sobs as he pushed himself into the warmth of the house. Kyle turned, gaping at Stan, then turned back to Craig.

"Craig, what the... what the fuck, Kenny?!"

"H-help." Craig said as he practically threw Kenny's blue body onto the couch and wrapped his arms around himself.

Shock hit Kyle's body as he looked between Craig and Kenny. He shook his head as he noted the blue color of Kenny's skin and the same slight shade on Craig's lips and hands.

"We need to go to the hospital." Craig shook his head and Stan lifted Kenny; he looked ready to be sick.

"I-if... if he goes to the hospital, h-he won't... Karen..." He stammered and chattered his teeth with every word and Kyle got the basic understanding of what he tried to say. Kyle grabbed the blanket from the couch and handed it to Craig before nodding and leading him to the basement stairs.

"You're gonna freeze, c'mon," Kyle said, hurrying down the stairs. Craig stumbled due to his numb, frozen legs and nearly fell down the stairs. Kyle turned back and helped him walk, much to his embarrassment and dissatisfaction. Stan hurried down with Kenny in his arms and sat on the couch. He took off the frozen parka and jeans, wrapped him in the blankets down on the plush couch in the Broflovski's entertainment center, and sat with him on his lap.

Kyle told Craig to sit and gathered the remaining blankets. He watched as Stan cradled Kenny in his arms and rocked as he ran his hands through his frozen hair.

Craig wiped his teary eyes; the tears were because he was so fucking cold and he thought he was going to die. Walking three miles while soaking wet from jumping into a frozen lake in the midst of a blizzard was the stupidest thing he had ever done. It was even stupider than giving them his $100 from his grandma all those years ago. He shakily shed his clothes down to nothing; he wasn't too embarrassed because they all had PE together.

"I'll get you some of Kenny's clothes, they should fit... okay?" Craig nodded as he shivered in the blankets and tried so hard to warm up. There was no body heat left in his body to warm the blankets so they just felt soft.

"Craig, what... what the hell happened?" Stan asked, his voice wavered and broke. Craig moaned softly and shook his head as he curled into himself. He had never been so cold in his life. He swore he was going to die.

But then he felt something warm surround him and it felt nice. He looked up and tried to lift his numb arms to help Kyle put the shirt on him, he felt extremely awkward and helpless, but he couldn't control his limbs. He closed his eyes as Kyle pulled the sweatpants up his legs and he could have cried with happiness when Kyle wrapped his arms around him.

"This isn't awkward, I'm saving your life," Kyle told him as he wrapped the two of them in blankets. Craig nodded and tried to grit his teeth to stop the chattering. Tried to warm himself to stop the shaking. But he was frozen to the core and it was awful.

Apparently Kyle had texted his brother because Ike came downstairs with two coffee cups in his hand and a fierce expression on his face. He did a double-take as he saw Craig yet said nothing as he set them down.

"I just told Karen that he was home." Kyle sighed heavily and he heard Stan sniffle as he continued to murmur things in Kenny's ear. "What happened?" the redhead shrugged his shoulders.

"Right now what matters is getting these two warm. I will let you know. Craig, do you prefer coffee or hot cocoa?" Craig just looked at him dumbly and Kyle grabbed the closest drink. "I'll take that as both." Slowly, the raven-haired boy gave a nod. "Keep your hands in the blankets, drink from the straw, the heating pad should be warmed up." He said nothing as Craig took a sip of the coffee, he could tell it was decaffeinated, and sobbed with relief. He just wanted to drink it all, or pour it on his body, bathe in the warmth, but Kyle took the cup away when he seemed to drink too much. It was infuriating. All Craig wanted was to be warm, to feel the warmth, or to at least not be so cold.

His arms and legs began to tingle in that burning pins and needles kind of way. He closed his eyes and concentrated on just warming up yet Kyle shook him gently. Slowly, he opened his eyes and glared.

"I thought you passed out." Craig shook his head.

"So... fucking... cold..." he gasped out and smiled weakly as Kyle tightened his embrace. He could feel the warmth from the ginger radiate through the blanket. "I... I have anemia," he whispered; Kyle tensed at that and Stan looked at them curiously yet said nothing.

He didn't know how much time had passed yet slowly he could feel himself warming, thawing. The pins and needles were painful now, but he could feel the sludge he called his blood start to warm up and almost rush through his body. It was bizarre.

"Give me your arm," Kyle said, pulling out one of his arms. Craig instantly tried to pull it back in the warmth of the blankets but he still had minimal control of his arm. He furrowed his eyebrows at Kyle as he began to massage the skin, but then it helped the pins and needles and it even felt nice as he dug into the tissue and muscle of his shoulder. "Can you try to tell us what happened?" he asked, Craig sighed heavily as the pins and needles began to subside in his arm, replaced with that tingling newly awakened feeling he got when his foot just woke up from being asleep.

"I... I was at Stark's Pond... I saw Kenny's clothes on the ice so I jumped in... gave up trying to f-find him, couldn't find the hole in the ice, gave up, then found him, then found the hole. I don't know why he did it. All I know is you guys are all assholes." Stan smiled as he looked at Craig with tears in his eyes.

"Thank you..." he trailed off, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Craig."

"You're always sorry. You always say this will never happen again. But time and time again you all just dig yourselves in these lives that have unnecessary obstacles you feel will somehow better yourselves. Kenny is an asshole. This was his fault. He's a selfish asshole and you can't deny it." That's how he felt right now anyway, and right now that's exactly how Kenny was behaving. Or behaved. No one would kill themselves in a selfless manner. There was no reason for his suicide attempt, except he was just getting bored of the usual ways to die.

He should have just left him. He fucking deserved it.

"Craig, why did you do that when he was... under the water?" Did they know he would just come back the next day? He couldn't risk it. They'd think he was crazy if they didn't know.

"Because it was the right thing to do." He answered numbly as Kyle massaged his left arm now.

"But I mean... you could have died. Why didn't you like call the cops or something?"

"Cops can't be involved, even I know that's how Kenny works." Stan laughed as he worked at drying the blonde's now thawed, soaked hair. "You guys honestly think I would let someone drown." He didn't ask, he stated his question. Kyle looked at him and he shook his head, "it's not like I don't care about anything at all."

"Well, well thank you. I don't think we could ever thank you enough. Especially because you risked your life and... I don't know a lot of people who would do that... I'm gonna take your temperature, and then depending on what that reads you can shower if you want. Not really hot though, 'cause that can cause shock."

"What are you, a doctor?"

"Hopefully someday," Kyle replied as Ike handed him the thermometer. Craig took it from Kyle and tried to ignore the fact it could have been in one of these sorry assholes' mouths yet he said nothing as he waited. A quiet beep sounded after a minute and Craig pulled the thermometer from his mouth. It read 94.4. That was low. Really low. "Nope, still too cold."

"Can I sleep or something?" Craig asked, Kyle shook his head and he groaned softly.

"You're not passing out on me, kay?" He sighed heavily and nodded as he searched for warmth. "Stan, any luck with Kenny?" Stan shook his head he took the hot compresses Ike brought in and slid them under the blankets.

"He's so cold..." Stan trailed off, yet as Craig looked over he looked less blue than when he saw him. He still looked pretty dead, though. But he wouldn't say anything.

"Is he gonna die?" Ike asked, Kyle glared at his little brother and shook his head. Craig scoffed, much to the annoyance of Stan and Kyle.

"No, he won't die. He's feeling warmer," Stan offered, still holding him like he was a broken doll. Craig stared at his pallid skin, now growing pinker and pinker by the minute and he sighed with slight relief. He figured it would be better if he died, however. That way he wouldn't have to suffer.

Like he was. He still shivered yet his body felt as if he had been thrown into boiling water. His blood felt hot in his skin and he had the urge to stamp his feet. He knew this feeling was like thawing from frostbite.

"Craig, how're you feeling?" Kyle asked softly, still holding him yet not as tight.

"Great," he mumbled sarcastically. To his surprise Stan laughed and Kyle smiled at him. That wasn't supposed to be funny.

"Is your trunk warm?"

"What is my trunk...?" He asked slowly, unsure if he wanted to know. Kyle bit back a grin.

"Neck, chest, groin."

"Uh..." he trailed off; he couldn't tell. Every part of him was prickling and he felt white hot. It was highly uncomfortable and he wanted it to stop. "Maybe."

"Ever so helpful..." Kyle trailed off with a smile that faded when he caught Craig's scowl. "I mean with knowing how you're feeling." Craig sighed heavily and rested his head on the gathering of blankets that worked as a pillow. A soft, fluffy warm pillow.

"I feel awkward." He replied in monotone, "pins and needles all over."

"Did he fall in?" Ike asked as he sat on the floor, watching both Stan and Kyle. Craig remained silent and stared at the coffee table. "Or was it on purpose?"

"I don't know." Craig answered stoically as he grabbed the thermometer from Kyle to take his temperature again; he really wanted to take a shower, and out of spite it would be really hot too. He could smell pond on him, and he felt gross.

"How'd you find him... I mean, if you don't mind me asking," Stan said. Craig shrugged a little and pulled the thermometer from his mouth.

"Can I use your shower?" He felt well enough, and hot water sounded too perfect right now. Kyle sighed heavily and nodded slowly. Although his temperature still wasn't above 95 degrees he knew there was no denying Craig from what he wanted.

Stan adjusted Kenny in his arms as Craig wobbled slightly behind Kyle, who thought it necessary to show him how to run the shower. Stan ran his fingers through Kenny's wet hair and pulled the mud-caked blonde strands from his face. He sighed shakily as tears fell from his eyes and he squeezed him tightly.

"You're such an asshole," he said, shaking his head as he held him tighter. For his sake, Kyle's sake, Butters' sake, and Karen's sake. Kenny couldn't die; they all needed him. The fact that he was depressed and decided to go mute was something they could deal with; but this... he couldn't stand the thought of not having Kenny around to joke around and just... be there. "We need you, dude. You gotta wake up."

Kyle returned after a few moments and knelt down in front of Stan and Kenny.

"What the fuck..." he mumbled, shaking his head as he put the thermometer in Kenny's mouth. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, then put it on speaker. "Is this actually happening?" Kyle asked softly. Stan nodded and hugged Kenny tighter.

"I don't know what's weirder, Kenny right now, or the fact that Craig is currently taking a shower at your house because he saved him."

"Yeah, I don't get that..."

"He's not telling us something, that's what..." Stan mumbled.

"H-hello?" Stan jumped in surprise when he heard the voice over the speaker. Suddenly, all of the feelings he must have brushed off overcame him.

"Butters!" He cried excitedly, Kyle gave him a look and he blushed a little.

"H-hey Kyle... why are you calling? You usually call on Saturdays," Butters asked. Kyle sighed heavily. Suddenly he had no clue what to say. A beat passed, then, "what's wrong with Kenny?"

Stan bowed his head; it was pretty obvious that's what they were calling about, he figured. But at the same time it was slightly creepy that he knew. But only slightly.

"When... when are you on winter vacation again?" Kyle asked.

"I h-have finals next week and I'm leaving n-next Thursday and you're supposed to keep that a surprise... why? What's wrong with Kenny?"

"He's alive-"

"That's reassuring..." Butters said sarcastically with worry evident in his voice. "Just... just tell me... what's wrong?"

"Craig found him in Stark's Pond."

"_I-in_?" Butters asked, voice breaking as he repeated the word.

"Yeah... I think he fell in but Craig isn't sure what happened."

"I-is he okay? Can I talk to him?!" Kyle sighed heavily and looked to Stan. He held Kenny tightly around his chest and massaged his skin from under the blanket like he had seen Kyle do. The blonde lay limp in his arms; a tinge of blue still clung to his skin yet he was back to his normal pallid color.

"He's unconscious, I dunno how to wake him."

"Did Craig push him in?" Butters asked with a quivering voice over the phone. Kyle caught Stan's gaze and found it difficult to not laugh. Honestly, that seemed the most logical explanation.

"I don't think so..."

Craig turned off the water and clutched the bathroom wall as dizziness consumed him. For a moment he felt like he would pass out, another he felt he would throw up, yet slowly the feelings subsided and he was left breathing heavily in a steam-filled bathroom.

He shivered as he opened the curtain yet he couldn't complain now about being cold; other than the light-headedness he felt normal. A little hungry, though; he'd ask if he could get something to eat before he left. Craig put on the sweatpants that belonged to Kenny, they were a little tight but Kyle's clothes were probably much too small for him. Then he pulled on the old long sleeved shirt that must have belonged to Kenny's older brother Kevin, as it was much too baggy for him even, and he combed through his wavy hair quickly.

"-ask him!" He raised his eyebrows as he heard Butters' voice. He couldn't be here. Then he saw the phone in Kyle's hand as Kyle applied hot compresses to Kenny's bare chest and back.

"He wouldn't-" Stan trailed off as he caught sight of Craig. "Craig, did you push Kenny in the water?"

Craig snorted as he shakily walked to the chair he had been sitting on and curled up like he usually did; legs tight to his chest. That's how he was the most comfortable. He shook his head.

"No, I found him."

"You know why I have problems believing that." Butters said, sounding snippy and much more confident than he ever heard him. Craig cracked a smirk; apparently Butters knew about Kenny's "condition" though he figured he'd have to know. How could he not? But the tone in his voice told him he also knew of Craig's freshman methods of venting...

"I just wanted to take a walk-"

"At eleven at night?"

"Yes." Craig snapped darkly, "And Kenny must have fallen in somehow. I didn't push him, I wasn't there when it happened, so I don't know how or why it happened."

"So you don't know if he was trying to kill himself?" Butters asked. Kyle's eyes widened and Stan looked at Craig, who remained still and silent as he stared at Kenny. Oh, he knew it was a suicide attempt; he just thought it was for Kenny to tell and not him.

"Not sure, could've been. If it was that's a pretty low move considering he'll probably be the one to get Karen back tomorrow."

"What makes you say that?" Butters asked, sounding softer, kinder.

"You're telling me he's making and dealing meth? That he's currently prostituting himself? That he abuses Karen?" Craig said. Butters laughed a little. Stan cracked a smile. "The only person I know who's ever done any of that is Stuart McCormick, and he's the one who's prosecuting. He's just pissed at them 'cause they actually have a chance. So if it was an attempt that's pretty fucking stupid because he'd throw everything away."

"How do you...?" Butters trailed off.

"I know him too," Craig barked as he glanced over at the still, limp body of Kenny. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of war was going on in that mind. He was sure it was limbo, like always, fighting for life and death. Personally, he'd love to experience that. He'd had a near-death experience but he didn't like talking about it. He never talked about it. But he hadn't seen limbo. He just saw grey.

But Kenny was different. He had seen the gates of heaven, the fiery depths of hell, fought his way through purgatory, and suffered the wait in limbo. It all happened in his mind and that's something Craig was curious about. What the hell it was like having the afterlife in your head; a part of him didn't want to know. So he never asked; but he always wondered.

"Kyle, I know it's stupid... but can you like... put me off speaker and let me talk to Kenny? Either way I know he won't reply, he never does, but... maybe he'll..."

"Yeah, hold on." Kyle hit a couple of buttons and brushed the hair behind Kenny's hair as he put the phone up to it. Eventually, after an awkward silence, Kyle could hear Butters say his name, and he put it back on speaker. "Yeah?" He said, and clutched Stan's hand tightly.

"Can you... can you tell him to call when he wakes up and is feeling well enough?" Butters asked through whimpers.  
"Of course." Kyle assured with a smile as Stan hummed quietly as he cradled Kenny. He couldn't let go, wouldn't let go. Like he and Stan, he knew Kenny and him were connected in a way he probably would never understand. It was nice, though.

Craig watched them with tired eyes as he twirled the teaspoon around in the cup of soup Kyle had made him. Honestly, now that he thought about it, he wasn't really hungry. He just wanted to sleep. But he knew that would be damn near impossible tonight. He was starting to feel his chest tighten and that meant he was going to end up with a bad cold or... worse.

He attributed his light-headedness to shock of the hot water as well as his anemia. Craig had told Kyle about it, he figured he probably needed to know in case he passed out or something. Plus he figured Kyle had all that good kind of food because he was diabetic and knew how to deal with shit like that. He had been proven right.

Stan suddenly jolted in alarm as the body laying on him stirred slightly. A deep breath, unlike the shallow pants that Kenny suffered to breathe, sounded, and he turned his body slightly. Craig watched with slight curiosity and shock although he had seen this process before. He just couldn't believe he was actually alive.

"Kenny?" Stan asked, voice raised slightly in pitch as he shook his arm gently. Kyle stopped him, however, and put his arm on the spot that Stan had touched. "Kenny!"

Craig rolled his eyes; no matter what he knew he'd wake up eventually. It wasn't that big of a deal.

The blonde kind of did an awkward flailing twitch that was to be believed as him trying to get away. He stilled and slowly his eyes opened, glassy grey-blue pools stared up at Stan; he noticed they weren't his usual cerulean color.

"Kenny! You're awake!" Stan cried happily, tears began to stream down his face once again as he hugged him tightly. Kenny didn't move or speak as he let Stan hug him. Kyle grabbed his wrist gently and squeezed affectionately as he smiled at the boy older than him by a mere two months.

"How... do you know what happened?" Kyle asked gently, Kenny just blinked at him and lowered his eyes. "I take that as a yes. How did it happen?" The blonde's eyes lifted and settled on Craig. The look caused the raven-haired boy to almost curl in upon himself; his eyes were unnerving, as if they could see into the very depths of his soul. He briefly wondered if they could.

"Craig found you," Stan explained gently as if he answered the possible question running through Kenny's mind. Kenny tilted his head and a look of curiosity crossed his features as his gaze softened. Craig wrapped his arms around himself and looked to the ground. "He jumped in after you."

The look Kenny gave him caused him to shudder and shrug his shoulders. _Why? _He seemed to be asking, he could almost hear his voice in his head. _Why would you do that?_

"I..." Craig trailed off, unsure of what to say. Kyle gave him a kind look, one that told him he didn't have to explain, now or ever, and took Kenny's hand in his.

"Can you tell me how you're feeling? I know you're not gonna talk, but I gotta know if I can help you in any way and if you can-" Kyle was cut off by Kenny wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. Craig was surprised at his ability to move so quickly; he still felt slightly frozen, but maybe Kenny also had weird special healing powers. He wouldn't doubt it because apparently he could shoot lasers out of his eyes, so he figured anything could happen. And usually it did.

Cold lips press against Kyle's cheek and a small smile spread on the redhead's face. As soon as Kenny let go of Kyle he turned and hugged Stan, and rested his head on his shoulder. Stan clung to him tightly and rocked them once more, slowly, calmly, this time with a smile instead of tears. Kenny kissed his cheek delicately and took his hand in his.

Craig watched this, felt slightly uncomfortable, and stood up; he outstayed his welcome. Now that Kenny was awake they'd be preoccupied with him; he could just go home and sleep. He hadn't even meant to stay here anyway, or this long at least. Now that he could feel his feet he could make his way home and curl up in his electric blanket.

But Kenny caught his movements and shook his head; the first confirmed response he had given to someone, about anything, in over a year. Craig leaned on the chair as he looked at Kenny, as if questioning him. Kenny rose from the couch, from Stan's hold, and stumbled, nearly hit his head on the coffee table, and Kyle grabbed him around the waist. Kenny, shaking, pointed to Craig, then bent his finger. He was telling him to come closer.

The black-haired boy sighed heavily and walked up to Kenny. They were nearly eye to eye with each other; Kenny was just a little over half an inch taller than him, and honestly Craig didn't know what to do. He stiffened when Kenny hugged him, they hadn't hugged in years, and he held his hands at his sides at first. Then, he slowly wrapped them around Kenny's back and felt the younger boy's head rest on his shoulder. They stared eye to eye for a moment, dark brown against crystal blue, and Craig flinched when he felt Kenny's lips on his cheek. Chapped, cold, but full of life, and... Craig shook his head as his heart ached, remember the days of long ago. He couldn't go back to that. But he didn't pull away from Kenny's affection; he never had.

_Thank you, _he swear he could hear Kenny say as Kenny pressed his temple against his. _Thank you for saving me. _And the look in his eye told him all he needed to know, he wasn't self-destructive, he wasn't manic. He was determined, and a deeper part of him sparkled with affection. Craig was half tempted to kiss him yet stopped himself when their lips were mere inches apart. They had had their final kiss already; their story was closed. They had found their peace. Yet he knew both of them were still at unrest.

_I will always care,_ Kenny's eyes seemed to say as they closed, and the smile that pulled at his lips was the confirmation. Craig nodded and tightened his hold. Because he would always care, too.

And that's the only reason he stayed.


End file.
